“There is that,” I replied seriously.
“I like that you went with the two piece,” she said, rolling toward me. “That top looks good with your jeans, too, so you can wear it whenever. All of my formal dresses from high school are just taking up closet space now. It’s not like I can wear them to the bar.”
“But just think,” I said with a smile. “In twenty years, they’ll be vintage and you could sell them for a bunch of money.”
“Start a retirement.”
“Pay for Botox.”
“Boob job.”
“Braces for Timmy.”
“Viagra for the hubby.”
“Oh, ew!” I said, pretend gagging. “I hope I never sleep with a guy old enough to need Viagra.”
“You will,” she said with a small laugh. “But you’ll be old, too, so you won’t care.”
“Do you think Poet needs Viagra?” I asked in disgusted fascination.
“That old goat?” my sister snorted. “No way in hell.”
We laughed so hard that we barely made any noise, wheezing as we tried to catch our breath.
“Some day, kid, you’re going to be married with a bunch of kids and I’m going to wonder where the fuck my gap toothed sister went,” Cecilia said softly, running her hand over my hair. “And you have dad’s gorgeous skin, so I’m also going to be completely jealous and petty that you look twenty years younger than me instead of just five.”
“My hair will go gray way before yours, though,” I replied with a yawn as she continued running her fingers through my hair.
“Eh, hair can be touched up,” she said quietly. “I’ll do it for you.”
“I’m thinking of getting bangs,” I murmured, closing my eyes.
“Oh, fuck no,” she replied, giving my hair a tiny yank. “Do not cut bangs. You have a cowlick in the front and they’ll look ridiculous. Plus, how would you style them when you can’t see them? No. No bangs. You’ll hate them and they take forever to grow back out.”
“If you stayed, you could style them for me.”
“I’m not staying to style your hair, no matter how much I love you,” she said, running her fingers through my hair again. “But maybe you can come visit me sometime, you know? We can go to the beach and stuff.”
“Where do you think you’ll end up?”
“San Diego, probably,” she said with a sigh. “I’m thinking that’s a good place to start over.”
I nodded, but her fingers in my hair were lulling me to sleep. I loved my sister. Even when I couldn’t stand her, I loved her. I guess that was the deal with siblings. Even when you thought they were assholes, there was still that part of you that remembered sharing a bed with them when you were little. The part of you that loved when they ran their fingers through your hair. The part of you that knew they loved you with the same fierceness, even if they didn’t show it most of the time.
“I love you, Bumblebee,” I murmured, reaching out to rest my hand on my sister’s thin waist.
“I love you, too, Lilybug.”
I fell asleep within seconds, and it wasn’t until a few hours later that I woke up again, when my sister left the bed.
“What’re you doing?” I asked, my voice scratchy.
“I’m heading out,” Ceecee whispered. “I’ll call you later and let you know where I’m at.”
“Aren’t you going to say goodbye to everyone?” I asked, leaning up on my elbow. I couldn’t tell where she was in the room, and I had no idea how much she had packed or how long I had before she walked out the door.
“No,” she replied. “I’ll call Mom later, but I want to get an early start.”
“What time is it?”
“About four,” she said, leaning down on the bed so she could plant a loud kiss on my forehead. “I’m going to go. Don’t wake the ’rents, okay? I’ll call them in a few hours. I promise.”
“I—” my words cut off as I tried to think of something to say. If I didn’t tell my parents that my sister was leaving, they’d be livid. If I did tell them, she was just stubborn enough that she’d leave anyway, and we wouldn’t hear from her for months. “Okay,” I said finally. “I’ll give you a couple hours. But if you haven’t called them by the time we have breakfast, I’m going to punch you in the face.”
“Thanks,” she said. I heard the swishing noises as she put her coat and purse on, and within seconds she was leaving.
“I love you, sissy,” she said, her voice filled with excitement.
“I love you, too,” I replied, falling back down on the pillow below me. “Drive careful, okay?”
“Always.” She paused for a few seconds, and then, because my sister never could seem to help herself, she left her parting shot. “I can smell him on you, you know? His cologne. You might have fooled Mom and Dad, but no way do you smell like that if you were just pressed up against his cut on the back of his bike.”